


Daddy Long Legs

by casstayinmyass



Category: Hemlock Grove, Hemlock Grove RPF, IT (2017) RPF
Genre: Angry Sex, Cheating, Christmas Fluff, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Makeup Sex, Marriage Proposal, Phone Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexting, Sloppy Makeouts, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16994316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Collection of my tumblr Bill Skarsgard smut fics!





	1. Attention (Bill Skarsgard x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is based on that Charlie Puth song, Attention. Reader and Bill have been separated for a few months, and the reader knows exactly what to do to get him right back in her arms. Also, Luke Evans cameo!

The straps on your dress glide up your shoulders, slotting over your collarbone. This outfit you’ve got on is sure to attract the stares every man at the party you’re headed to… but you’re only looking to target one. He’ll be there, you’re sure of it. Whichever woman he’s decided to bring this time to insist to the press,  _“see, I have a girlfriend, now will you leave my private life alone?!”_ won’t stand a chance against you.

Stepping into your heels, you text your friend that you’re ready to go, and head out to your car, parked underneath the palm trees of smoggy LA. It’s evening by the time you swing by your friend’s place, the lights of the city glowing and making it almost what it’s made out to be by hopefuls: the land where dreams true. You much prefer New York City, but work is where work is, so Hollywood is a necessary evil. You remember when you and Bill used to joke about it in bed.

_“Why can’t we just move to New York?”_

_“Stockholm is nicer.”_

_“Not nicer than New York!”_

_“Everything is nicer than New York,” Bill smirked._

_“What would we do in Stockholm?” you had asked playfully, rolling over onto his naked chest so that your breasts were pushed up against his pectorals. He bit his lip with a mischievous grin, bouncing you on his lap slightly._

_“Fuck.”_

_“Every day,” you growled in his ear, nipping at his ear lobe._

_“Every night.” He squeezed your ass, causing you to squeal._

_“Mmm, but other than that?” you rolled back over to lay beside him on the pillow._

_“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “See my parents every once and a while. Invite your parents out. Find a nice hot spring- we have a lot of those there, you know- and uh… get naked?”_

_“Everything leads back to getting naked, doesn’t it?” you stuck your tongue out._

_“When you drive me this crazy?” he groaned, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, “Yeah.”_

You cluck your tongue as your gaze shifts to the exit off the freeway. You knew how crazy he was for you… and tonight, you were going to exploit the hell out of that.

“What’re you thinking about?” your friend asks you, turning down the music a little.

“How accessible my panties are in this dress,” you reply, turning onto a street.

Your friend laughs. “Are you sure Bill’s worth the money you spent on those? He’s a huge jerk, remember?”

“The look on his face’ll sure be worth it,” you explain, pulling over the car. You give the keys to the parking employee, who works for whichever studio is throwing this party, and you walk in together.

“(y/n)!” someone shouts, and you turn to see someone you’ve grown close to. It’s Barbara Muschietti, sister of Bill’s director on It. You two had met a while ago during the filming of that, when Bill had taken you one day to set.

“Hey,” you grin, “You look nice tonight.”

“Thanks, love. Look at you! Who are you trying to rope in tonight with this outfit?”

“Oh, you know,” you smile, “Someone who’ll probably make it extremely challenging for me.”

“But who doesn’t love a good challenge when it comes to men?” she grins, and clinked her glass against yours. Her brother approaches.

“Ah, (y/n)! How are things going?” he asks, and you nod.

“Good, Andy.”

“You, uh… you know Bill’s here, right?” He knows about your bad breakup, as it had happened during the press tour for It, which is why Bill was absent for most of it.

“Oh?” you feign, looking around, “Is he?”  

“Yes, I just saw him over by the washrooms. We were chatting about his new project, Castle Rock…”

The rest is drowned out as you think about that project, and how you two had discussed it in a much different context.

_“I’ve got a big surprise,” he grinned, pulling away from your lips for a second._

_“Yeah?” you grinned back, holding his hands above his head as he ground up against you._

_“Yeah. A new project I’m tied to.”_

_“Aaand what is it?” you breathed against his lips, and he was momentarily distracted, dragging you in for another kiss until you pulled away again. “Well?”_

_He groaned, sitting himself up on his elbows. “It’s called Castle Rock. Stephen wanted me for it, cause everyone’s big on Pennywise right now.”_

_“Shit,” you grinned, “Another Stephen King? You’re becoming the Johnny Depp to his Tim Burton.”_

_He laughed. “You know, everyone’s making that joke. Anyway, I guess so. I don’t mind though. His stuff is pretty fun to do.”_

_“Well, who are you gonna play this time?” you ask playfully, mouthing kisses along his neck. He swallowed, Adam’s Apple bobbing._

_“Can’t tell. C-confidential.”_

_You bit lightly in the junction of his neck, feeling his hips roll up against you wantonly._

_“Mmmph, Shawshank prisoner,” he breathed, mouth opening in a gasp. “Fuck.”_

_You giggled. “You’re hot when you’re powerless.” He glared up at you, then used his leg to kick you beneath him, rolling on top._

_“Not for long, sweet thing.”_

You phase back into the conversation with Andy, and nod along with whatever he’s just finished saying about Castle Rock.

“Oh yeah?” you pretend to seem enlightened, “I had no idea Bill was attached to another Stephen King project!”

“Yeah. He’s becoming the Johnny Depp to Stephen’s Tim Burton!”

You seal your lips in a tight smile, and excuse yourself to get a drink, saying goodbye to them. Your friend is waiting at one of the tables, hyperventilating.

“What is it?” you ask.

“I just flirted with Ellen Page,” she cries, fanning herself, and you laugh.

“Looks like both of us are in for some fun tonight.”

Just then, you spot him. It’s impossible to mistake his tall, lanky frame in that bespoke suit– and fuck… he’s wearing the pink tie you got for him for your first premiere together.  _Asshole_. Shaking your head, you quirk an eyebrow at your friend, taking a sip of champagne and cocking your head. She frowns and follows your gaze, then her eyes widen.

“Now?” she murmurs.

“Gradually,” you smile, and brush past her to approach your prey.   
“Bill?” you say, smiling, “God wow! Fancy seeing you here.”

He turns, and you can tell you’ve caught him off guard. He recovers well.

“Oh, (y/n). Huh, didn’t expect to see you at a party like this,” he chuckles, not meeting your gaze, and you clench your jaw.

“Likewise,” you grit out, and he clears his throat, looking over at his date.

“Uh, Nicolette… this is (y/n).”

“Nicolette,” you say the name slowly, and give her a sweet smile. “Pleasure.”

Bill frowns, and coughs again.

“Right, um…” his eyes fight to tear off of your chest, and you know you’re already well on your way to stealing his attention for good, “W-we should be going.” The dress is karma, and you know your perfume is affecting him too. He’s intoxicated by it, thinking back to when you were his,  _only_  his.

“Home already?” you ask innocently.

“No,” Bill growls, and you smirk to yourself as your tall ex-boyfriend whisks “Nicolette” away through the crowd.

Fine. You can work from far away.

You go over to the dancing area and find the first body in your way, who happens to be Luke Evans, an old friend of yours. You knew each other from an MTV awards back when you were first starting out as an actress- you had forgotten your presenting notes, and he had stepped in. You tap his shoulder.

“(y/n)!” he grins, “My god, it’s been too long!”

“It has,” you say, hugging him, “I’ve missed you.”

“Same here. Jon and I saw your latest film, it was quite something.”

“Where is Jon?” you smile, and Luke jerks his head back, motioning for his boyfriend.

“Somewhere around. I think he’s going around telling everybody he’s just met Madonna a week ago. He got to be in her music video- never gonna hear the end of that one, let me tell you.”

You giggle, then see Bill looking over at you from the opposite side of the room, trying to pretend he’s scanning the room instead of watching you.

“Big favour,” you murmur, looking up at the Welshman, “I need you to look  _absolutely_  enthralled with me.”

“Ahhh, you need the treatment to make someone jealous, eh?” he grins, “Okay, won’t ask. This’ll be fun.” He rubs his hands together, then grabs your shoulders, pulling you in and rocking his body against yours. He then kisses you hard, hands settled comfortably on your hips. You make sure to turn so that Bill gets a full view of the feel copping.

“Fuck,” you breathe, pulling away, “Jon’s a lucky man.” It’s not Bill, but it’s good, nonetheless.

“So he’s told me,” Luke smirks. Suddenly, you turn to come face to face with your ex. He looks down at you, almost incredulously.

“Luke Evans?”

Luke makes his exit with a pointed stare, and you turn fully to Bill.

“What about him?”

“Thought he was gay.”

You shrug. “Doesn’t matter that he’s gay.”

“Really? Your best friend is gay, would you make out with her?”

“Oh, don’t you wish.” You hate how entitled he sounds, even though this was your goal anyway.  

“Wait Bill, how do you know all that about her friend?” Nicolette asks apprehensively, and Bill grinds his teeth, patience sufficiently tested.

“(y/n) and I used to know each other.”

“Oh yeah,” you add, placing a hand on Bill’s shoulder and letting your breasts pop a little more, “Right before he decided to go and ruin everything.”

Bill lets out that frustrated, almost petulant sigh he always did, and let go of Nicolette’s arm.

“I’m gonna go out for a smoke, I’ll be right back  _babe_ ,” he says to her, kissing her cheek, and walks toward the door. He turns back, shooting you a look that says, “follow me or else.” You do, snapping your straps once more.

As soon as you’ve left the pad, the door is slammed. Bill’s fist is pounding against the wall, but you get the first word in.

“The tie I bought you for the Atomic Blonde premiere? Seriously Bill?”

He whips around, opening his arms. “What, should I have just burned everything you gave me?”

“No, but you don’t have to wear it with another girl. Real classy.”

“I’m not the one with her breasts in my face,” he snaps back, eyes venomous.

“Still. You could’ve picked one that didn’t bring back  _our_  memories.”   
You think back to when you had given him the tie.

_“For you,” you smiled. His eyes lit up, and he took the pink tie, wrapping it around his neck._

_“It’ll look amazing with my suit,” he said, kissing your cheek._

_“That’s what I thought when I picked it out,” you replied, tying it and patting his chest gently. “It’s gonna make your green eyes pop.”_

_“Just like your necklace is,” he said, feeling the small gems in your chain. You nuzzled your head against his chest, and he sighed, stroking your hair. “How long do we have before we go for hair and makeup?”_

_“An hour or so. That’s when the car is coming,” you said, then giggled. “Why? Wanna get up to something?”_

_“For once, fuck no. I just wanna take a nap,” he chuckled, and pulled you down on the bed with him. You hummed._

_“I hear that. We’ve been working on this damn movie for so long I’ve forgotten what sleep is.”_

_“And we weren’t even top billed cast.”_

_“I think we got even less sleep than the guy doing the latte runs for Charlize,” you laughed. Bill snorted._

_“That’s really fucking saying something.”_

_“Poor guy looked like a zombie,” you laughed. “To be fair though, she was very nice about it.”_

_“I should hope so, dude nearly got hit by a bus coming back over from Starbucks.”_

_You two looked at each other, and you really shouldn’t laugh at that, but you did, until you were in stitches, limbs criss-crossed over each other’s on the bed._

_“We’re gonna look like that guy at the premiere if we take a nap, you know,” you sighed, “You always look like a firecracker went off in your face when you wake up.”_

_“What?!” he laughed._

_“Trust me, it’s not good.”_

_“Mmm,” Bill mumbled, and grabbed blindly for the remote. “Netflix it is, then.” You turned to the screen and peeked over his arm, frowning._

_“What the hell? It’s not gonna be Christmas for like another eight months, Bill,” you said as Home Alone starts playing._

_“Fuck it,” he muttered, tossing the remote away, and you smile, settling down on him. He planted a kiss on your forehead, and you looked up, prompting him to kiss your lips. You deepened the kiss, scooting up closer so that you’re slotted together, holding each other, as you clutched the new pink tie your bought him in your fist._

Your memory fades out on Bill’s angry expression, nose all crinkled.

“Is it the thought of me with someone else so god damn terrible that you have to ruin that too?!” he shouts at you.

“I wasn’t ruining anything, I was just telling her the truth,” you reply, closing your eyes bitterly. 

“Right, yeah. Like the truth you told the press, that I cheated on you with a casting director so I could get Hemlock Grove?! You thought I’d just call you up once I heard that, right? Were you trying to provoke me?”

You pause, inhaling sharply. “I was pissed, you were an asshole,” you shoot back.

“So you wreck my public image?!”

“That’s…” you sigh, feeling a stab of regret. That was one thing you wished you hadn’t done. “…Not what I was trying to do. I talked before thinking. Besides, your image was doing just fine, Bill.”

“No thanks to you.”

“You’re the one who left me!” you finally shout, getting close to his face.

“(y/n), I was ready to marry you!” he shouts, and you blink at him. “Shit.” He takes a step back, puts a cigarette in his mouth, then puts it away again after realizing his lighter is out of fluid. “Yeah, okay? I had a fucking ring and everything. It was pretty, too… fuck…”

“You were gonna propose?” Your thoughts are swirling, thrown off the night’s meticulously laid out plan, “Then… why did you leave, you dipshit?!”

“Because I thought I was in over my head!!” he shouts, “I hate rejection, you know that, and I was so scared you were gonna say no.”

“Why in hell would you think I’d say no, Bill?” you murmur, “I lo-” You stop yourself, and shake your head.  

“Because the thought of hearing you say no kept sticking in my mind. I couldn’t go through with it.” He runs a hand though his hair, swears again, then turns back. “Anyway, we’re over now. You think you can just run around to every party in LA until you find me, prance around in that little dress and watch me go nuts over you all over again?”

You shrug at him, watching his gaze for a few seconds. His chest is heaving. His blood is up, and he looks predatory, like he wants to grab you and take you as roughly as he possibly can without breaking you. Now that the two of you were right here, standing face to face, you already knew that you had won. 

“That’s exactly what I think." 

He stares at you, licks his lips, and exhales sharply. "You’re right,” he mutters, and grabs your hair, pushing you back against the wall and shoving his lips into yours. You moan a little, and he slides a hand up your leg, lifting your dress.

“I’m all for freaky shit,” you whisper, “But if we’re gonna avoid a pretty racy headline here, we’d better do this in the bathroom.”

He pulls away, looking absolutely feral, and picks you up, carrying you down the hall until you find a washroom. Grabbing the end stall, he locks it, then loses it again, mouthing up your neck.

“I fucking knew I’d have you desperate for it,” you whisper, “Ahh…”

“Yeah, well I’ve been wanting to fuck you again since the day I left,” he tells you, lifting you up again, “Your lips… your hands… god, your pussy is fucking magic.” You wrap your legs behind him, and watch as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other one supporting you with ease. “God, I wanna get my fingers in there…”

You breathe in, biting your lip as he shoves your panties aside, burying three fingers deep inside of you because he knows you can take it like that. He continues to finger you until he lifts you up further, moving your dress up to just under your breasts and reaches into his pocket. He digs around and pulls out a condom, rolling it on. In a swift push, he buries himself inside of you, and you moan his name, hooking your legs behind him as he begins to fuck you against the wall.  

The thrusts are just as rough as you had expected, Bill taking out all of his anger from the past few months. “Don’t stop,” you breathe, and he shakes his head, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tug.  _So… he still remembers you love that_.  _Well, you remember what he likes too._

Leaning down and out of the sloppy kiss, you sink your teeth into his shoulder, and he groans, thrusts increasing in pace and force as you pull away to admire the bruised skin.

“You’re hot,” you smile playfully.

“Yeah… ditto,” he mutters, belt jangling every time he thrusts into you. You clench around his cock, and grab his ass, sending you both into a better position.

“Fuck me harder, Bill,” you whine, “You’re gonna make me cum…” He slams his palm against the wall for leverage, pounding into you.

“Shhhh, we’re at a party full of really important people. Someone could leak this shit.”

“Let them,” you grin, and he gives you a look, before you bite his bottom lip, sucking it into your mouth. You rock your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts, and he gasps, throwing his head back. “Fuck, love fucking your pussy… yeah, that’s damn good…”

You cry out his name, and grind down hard as you cum. “OhhhgodBill-”

“Ahh, (y/n),” he cries, and pounds you both through your climaxes against the wall, the loud jangle of his belt getting quieter as he slows to a stop.  

“Fuck,” he mutters, letting you slide back down. You fix your panties and your dress, and Bill cleans himself up, depositing the condom.

“See you inside,” you say, and smirk at him. He swallows, and runs a hand through his hair.

“I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say, “I met her.” You saunter past him.

Back inside, you see Bill rejoin Nicolette, rubbing his swollen bottom lip and looking around. He tries to smile at her, and kisses her cheek. His eyes meet yours, and you look at him– if he looks that guilty all night, she’s gonna find out. You shake your head. He always was a shit liar. You turn to glance around– your friend is on the other side of the room, making out with… geez, she wasn’t lying about Ellen Page?

Suddenly, your phone goes off, and you put it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“(y/n)!” It’s your manager, Joe.

“Joe, hi,” you smile, going to the corner to finish catching your breath.

“I just got a call. They want you for a new TV show.”

“Uh huh?” you murmur absently, “Which one?”

“Castle Rock.”

You begin to smile, and you turn to look at Bill one more time from across the floor. “Well,” you say into the phone, “Won’t that be a good time?”


	2. All I Want For Juldagen (Bill Skarsgard x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday fluff!

Bill is a hopeless romantic. 

He tries to tell you he isn’t, but when he takes you out for candlelit dinners “because you look cute”, you beg to differ. Today, he’s got your hand in his, and you’re wrapped around his arm as you stroll by the water together, you in your toque and him with his own new black beanie on (after you made him ditch his grandpa paperboy hat, after much sulking). 

“So did you get what you needed today?” he asks. 

“Yep. I’m fully loaded,” you smile, referring to the shopping trip the two of you had taken today for Christmas– your boyfriend was off for a couple of months right now, as he had finished all the filming he needed to on the latest film he was in. You love that you’ll have him to yourself for a while. 

“My siblings and I are all throwing in to send dad and mum on a trip, and you’ve gotten them matching sweaters, so they’re covered,” Bill says. 

“I got Gustaf a tea set, Valter Far Cry 3, Alex a cactus because he always said he wanted one and I take all of his jokes seriously on purpose, and Elijah a gift card to Le Chateau,” you recount. 

“And I got your mom a honey-scented candle, your dad an Amazon gift card, and your dog a new antler bone,” he smiles, kissing your cheek. You giggle. 

“You know my family and my dog love you more than they love me, right?” you deadpan. 

“And I intend to keep it that way,” Bill nods, and you smack his arm lightly. The unspoken wondering hangs in the air of what each of you got the other person– you had gotten a box of Bill’s favourite Swedish candies, and made him a book of those cheesy coupons with ridiculously kinky favours inside like “you are entitled to watch me do the dishes naked” or “you are entitled to ten minutes of head while you do the vacuuming” which isn’t technically a great or physically practical privilege, but hey… you knew your boyfriend would get a kick out of them. You had mentioned a few things you were looking for this year, like a new tea towel for the stove or a new lampshade that didn’t have a thread hanging off it, but you always felt bad for asking Bill for any real gifty-type gift. 

He always insisted, and you always insisted right back that of course you wanted nothing more than a new toilet seat cover or a nice carpet for the foyer. Before now, Bill had chalked it up to you being really into interior decorating– that is, until he caught you today staring intently through the window of the jewellery store. He saw what you were looking at, but you had quickly assured him you were just browsing, keeping your daydreams to yourself. 

“Still gonna tell me you want a lampshade for Christmas?” Bill asks, finger rubbing circles into your palm as you keep walking. You look out over the water, the stars reflecting beautifully in it. 

“Well… I guess I can be a little naughty, and spring for a sexy pair of panties from Victoria’s Secret.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I don’t know, baby… that’s asking a lot… getting a little greedy there, I think.“ 

You giggle again, blushing, and he tilts you chin up, smile suddenly fading from his gorgeous lips as he stops you. 

"Hey. I would give you the world if you asked for it, you know that?"   
You slowly nod, and stand up on your tippy toes to kiss him.   
You two continue walking. 

\-                                                                                                        

You roll over and sigh contentedly as Bill joins you in bed. He had just finished brushing his teeth after having his last cigarette of the day, and the two of you were settling in for a movie. 

"What do you wanna watch?” he murmurs, “We’ve got Elf… that old Moomin Christmas movie Alexander was in… The Santa Clause… Rudolph-" 

"Black Christmas,” you say, and he huffs a laugh. 

“I fully blame you if I can’t go to the bathroom tonight in fear of somebody strangling me with Christmas lights." 

"Come on, you know I like to watch this every year,” you pout. 

“If you can put up with my Christmas traditions, I can put up with yours,” he smiles, kissing your forehead, and you both turn to the screen. About halfway through, Bill looks down to find you asleep on his chest. He tries to keep watching just to say he did, but he’s too terrified, and turns it off to snuggle with you. You both fall asleep in each other’s arms.   
  
It’s almost Christmas, and the tree is up. It’s got a combination of your decorations and his, yours being the little bells and snowflakes and Santa ornaments, and his being the traditional apples (fake ones), candles (plastic tea lights, so you didn’t burn the place down like so many Swedish people obviously did in the 16th century) and a few small gnomes that he had taken with him from his childhood home. It was a nice tree, you had to admit, and the decorations made it perfect. 

This year, your respective families were coming to visit you where you both lived (just outside of LA right now, convenient for Bill’s work), and you had already had your family over.

If you didn’t go to Sweden to visit, (which was always fun, especially the particularly appetizing anchovy and egg dish you got to eat with everyone, Gubbröra) Bill’s family usually came a little after Juldagen (Christmas Day) and closer to Annandag Jul (Boxing Day) as it was hard with all of Bill’s brothers to coordinate who was available when, who was shooting what when, etc. etc.. You did love when the Skarsgårds came and visited here though, especially with Stellan dressing up as Jultomten, knocking at the door with his sack of gifts. Every time, Bill insisted you both were way too old for that, and every time Alexander, like the dutiful eldest son he is, always reminded everyone that nobody was too old for Santa Claus. 

Your parents loved the gifts, as did your dog, and once again, Bill had won their hearts. You remember watching him talk to your dad in private, and thought back to when your parents used to tell you how they hoped you would find someone right for you.   
Bill feels like that guy. 

-  
Three days before Juldagen, you both are busy with preparations.

“I’m so glad our families aren’t annoying,” you remark, pouring some eggnog. 

“Well, mine’s annoying. Yours isn’t,” Bill smiles, adjusting the two stockings over the fireplace. 

“I love your family,” you say, sticking your tongue out, and he shrugs.   
“Glad one of us does.” He laughs out loud. “No, I agree. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about a mother in law from hell." 

"In law?” you ask in curiosity, and he quickly snaps his gaze up. 

“Uh, hypothetically." 

"Oh,” you nod, and he clears his throat. 

“Hey, um, is that snowman thing on the roof still crooked?” he asks, dashing up the stairs quickly with those freakishly long legs, “I’ll fix it!”

You frown at his weird behaviour, and go back to pouring a little rum into each glass of eggnog. 

“Don’t get strangled with Christmas lights up there!” you call with a grin, and hear him shriek playfully. You take out your phone, sending Merry Christmas texts to all your friends and family, and sigh. 

It never snowed in LA like it did when the two of you visited Sweden, but other than that, it was shaping up to be a perfect Christmas. 

-

Childlike excitement fills you as you wake up earlier than you usually do on Christmas Eve.

“Baby,” you hiss, “Hey! It’s Christmas Eve." 

He blinks awake, and rubs his eyes. "Oh… Merry Christmas,” he smiles, kissing you softly. A few seconds into the kiss, you push lightly on his chest as he starts to deepen it and get handsy. 

“Come on. We can save that for dessert,” you grin, and he smiles too, tugging on a shirt and pyjama pants to go downstairs. You forget when you launch yourself out of bed that you’re still in your candy cane lingerie dress, that wouldn’t be complete without the little panties that read “ _Dear Santa, Define "Good_ ”. Bill slaps your ass as he walks by, and as you squeal, he picks you up, carrying you bridal style down the stairs. 

“I have to change,” you protest, laughing. 

“Why?” he laughs too, “You look perfect. Don’t ever change." 

"Saying I look perfect and being a cornball won’t get you laid any faster,” you tease, and he shakes his head. 

“Damn. Thought I really had that one in that in the bag.” You two giggle together until you make it to the huge tree in your living room. You hop down from Bill’s arms to turn on the tree lights, and flop down by the TV. An entire day of watching Christmas movies and cuddling with hot chocolate and Creme de Mente later, it’s time for the gifts when it gets dark. In Swedish tradition, gifts were opened Christmas Eve, so you had gotten used to it this way. 

About a half hour later, you’re finally on the last one. Bill loved his candies and had already eaten half the box, and his coupons were a hit too- he had already redeemed ‘you are entitled to an upside down on the floor kiss’. 

“One more,” he says, licking his lips. You watch him… he only really does that when he’s nervous. You reach for the box at the back of the tree skirt, and begin to take the paper off slowly. 

“Bill…” you start, and he envelops your hands as you finally open the gift up. A gasp escapes you _. It’s…_  it’s the rose ring from the front display of the jewellers, the one from that new Beauty and the Beast “Enchanted” line that you couldn’t stop staring at and dreaming about! It was beautiful– the little twists of the silver and diamond made the middle look like a little rose, and oh god, it was everything you wanted and more. 

“Will you be my wife?” he asks simply, very nervously, and you break down, sniffling and rubbing your eyes. 

“Oh my god… yes, Bill! I Iove you so much." 

”(Y/n),“ he smiles, and squeezes your hands, "I know you hate the song, but…”

You look up at him from the ring, tear-brimmed eyes widening.   
“D-don’t say it,” you laugh through your happy tears, “Don’t be th-that guy."   
"Hey, I’ve got nothing to lose now.” He beams at you. “All I want for Christmas is you.” He slips the ring on your finger, and tugs you closer to him, crashing your lips together. 

“Oh, and the new pair of panties is waiting upstairs under the bed. Along with the lampshade." 

You giggle, resting your forehead against your fiancé’s. By next Christmas, you two would be married… and not a season too soon.

 


	3. Studying? (Roman Godfrey x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirty smut. Slight blood kink.

Your phone buzzes off in your pocket.

You try to ignore it, as studying is a painful priority right now– with a six class term load this semester, finals were officially going to be your cause of death if you didn’t dedicate yourself properly. Your phone buzzes again, and you let out a frustrated noise. You had told Peter you were busy studying all evening, so you knew it wouldn’t be him– he was actually respectful when you told him you were occupied with something. Unlike…

“Roman,” you groan, checking your phone. You love your boyfriend more than the world, but he’s a dickbag. An annoying, relentless, horny dickbag who has to have everything when  _he_  wants it.

_What’re you up to?_

You read the text, and sigh as you quickly type out a message.

_Studying, like I told you a billion times yesterday_

_–Oh yeah. Forgot._

You feel yourself soften a little at the text. Maybe he just wanted to be sweet and ask how everything was going with you. Well, if that’s all–

Suddenly, another text buzzes in.

_Can I come over?_

You roll your eyes, and huff a little as you write back.

_noo dipshit I’m s t u d y i n g_

He writes back.

_Why are you studying when we could be f u c k i n g?_

Shaking your head, you can’t help but laugh out loud at him. This is coming from the person who once asked the English teacher in high school if, “texting and facebook counted as studying, because put them together and it makes textbook!”

_Fuck you Roman, you can’t come over. I’m gonna fail my exams if I procrastinate this shit any more_

Another reply.

_Fine. Leave me to waste away in my room, crying over the fact that I can’t get any pussy tonight_

You giggle some more, clutching a pillow to your chest as you begin to write a snarky reply. Roman instead cuts you off with a black and white selfie of himself staring out his window, dramatically smoking and feigning crying.

_Turned away by my own girlfriend_

“Oh, please,” you mumble to yourself, grinning. Then, a thought strikes you. Pictures… hm.

You really should get this work done… but–

_Okay fine. just bc I know your thirsty ass can’t last one night without me, here’s a little something to keep you going._

You bite your lip, and think of a position. You could pretty much drive him wild with anything, but you don’t wanna start off too strong. No, it was fun to edge him.

You spread out on your bed a little, and take off the sweatshirt you had on, leaving you in your thin camisole. Underneath, you weren’t wearing a bra, so you make sure you get an angle that captures your breast under the fabric just enough to entice him. Squeezing a hand there, you get yourself biting your lip in the photo as well, and send it to him.

A minute later, you get this message:

_holy fuck_

You smile, brushing your thumb against your nipple and pinching it a little. You knew you had him. Your smug attitude is shattered as you get a picture back, though– you look at your phone, revealing Roman shirtless, lying on his bed, with smoke pouring from his mouth down over his chest in thick rivulets. You swallow… he knows exactly how to turn you on.

“Okay,” you whisper, and flip your camera around, getting a shot of your hand just barely grazing your panties, thighs on either side of the frame, with your camisole riding up your stomach.

You get a picture back of his legs down the bed, boxers at the forefront and the evidence of his erection tenting them. He writes two texts to accompany.

_I’m so hard for you_

_If I was there, wanna know what I’d do to you?_

You write back.

_Tell me baby._

You wait with baited breath, chest rising and falling in anticipation. Your pussy is just beginning to throb, hips wiggling a little on your bed to get a little friction. You won’t give yourself any until you have Roman’s intentions in front of you.

_I’d watch you take your panties off, and bring your fingers down to tease yourself. I’d watch your face as you start to finger yourself, watch your pussy clench as you whisper my name, then I’d tie you up so you couldn’t touch_

_Then I’d part your thighs, watching you quiver for me underneath, and id finally give you what you needed, burying myself deep inside that hot, wet pussy while you moan my name, moaning all the dirty shit you want me to do to you_

You clench your jaw, already working your bud with your fingers underneath your panties.

_I’m so wet Roman omg fuck me_

He writes back.

_My little slut wants me, huh? you want me even deeper? you want me to bite your lip just like that as you ride my dick like a greedy whore?_

“Oh god,” you murmur to yourself, dipping two fingers into yourself. It quickly turns to three fingers as he writes again.

_You really want it, don’t you princess? you want my cum so bad_

You swallow, curling your fingers and moaning loudly.

_yeah oh god Roman please give it to mfdf_

You don’t have the patience to correct your text mistake as you send your reply, anxious and desperate to hear the next thing he’d do.

_Yea, that’s it. I know you wanna cum on daddy’s cock, but you’ve gotta wait_

_—Fuck for what?_  you write back, breath heaving.

_I want another picture, princess. I wanna know just how my baby is touching herself_

You breath in, trying to fumble with the camera. You send a quick shot of your trembling legs parted on the bed, then think of something. You reach down, and bite your forearm, drawing a little blood and smearing it by your lips and over your neck. You then take another selfie of your head pressed back into the pillow, mouth open in ecstasy at the mix of pain and tingling pleasure.

You wait for a second, then your phone starts ringing with a call. You answer.

“Rom?”

“Fuck, I wanna hear it, (y/n),” he breathes, tone not at all similar to the domineering texts he was sending, “Fuck, I gotta hear you cum.”

You knew the blood would work. 

“Roman,” you moan, the sound of his voice tipping you. He grunts softly as he strokes himself listening to you, wet slapping sounds coming over the line, and a low growl rips from his throat, effectively pushing you over the edge and making you cum hard. You arch off the bed, letting out a high-pitched squeal followed by a throaty groan, and you hear a gasp on the other line as Roman follows.

A few seconds pass, where you both just listen to each other breathe. Finally, he speaks up.

“You walked right into that one.”

You frown a little, then realize what he had done. He knew all along you were studying tonight, and by pretending to forget you told him and begging to come over anyway, he knew you would offer an alternative to sex.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mutter, and Roman laughs.

“Hey, you got off. I’m sure that was much more fun than… what, what are you doing? Reading George Orwell and shit?”

“Orwell’s not that bad,” you protest, “You should try reading sometime, you may actually pass an exam.”

“Yeah, fucking likely,” he laughs some more, and sighs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, babe. I’m picking Peter up, and we’re gonna skip our first class to get high. You wanna come?”

“Sure, my first exam’s not until the evening,” you reply, still bitter you fell for that whole thing just now.

“I love you so much,” he says, and you smile, suddenly wishing he was here in your room, stroking your back and reading your study texts out loud in funny voices.

“See you tomorrow, baby. Love you too.”

You look over at the time, and see that it’s midnight already. Your eyes are beginning to droop, and… oh, fuck it. Who needs studying when you’ve got sexting with the hottest dumbass in Hemlock Grove?


	4. The Family Cabin (Bill Skarsgard x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bill visit the Skarsgard family cabin for the holidays.

You wake up in a fluffy bed, taking in the sight around you. It's gorgeous- the cozy room you're in holds the remnants of last night's fire, and the sweet pine filtering through the window couldn't be reproduced by any of your favorite candles back home. You never feel so relaxed in your life as you do when you're here.

Bill is lying beside you, stretched out with his face smashed into his pillow- it's a miracle he hasn't suffocated himself sleeping that way.  
You brush your lips over his nose briefly, before smiling. He hates mornings and you know it, so you always love waking him up gently.

"Hey," you whisper, sunlight filtering in through the bay windows. The light allowed you to see the beautiful view of the endless snowy forest all around you.

You were at Bill's family's cabin in Sweden for the next couple of weeks, which was much different in the winter than the summer. In the summer, you two came here sometimes to swim in the lake, go hiking, roast smores, etc., but in the winter, it turns into a Swedish wonderland-- you couldn't think of anything that got you into the Christmas spirit more.  
"Mmph," your boyfriend replies, barely batting an eyelash, and you try again, wrapping your arms around him under the covers and kissing him on the lips. His eyes flutter open, and you feel him smiling through the kiss.  
"Mmm, I'm up... I'm up..."

You grin, and he rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. "G'morning."  
"Morning," you smile, "It's nice not to have to get up and go to work today."

"Tell me about it," he sighs, and presses one more kiss to your lips before rolling onto his back and letting out a long, relaxed sigh. "It's beautiful here."

"It is," you agree.

"You know, this used to be my room when we would visit the cabin as kids?"

"Yeah?"

"Yep. I mean, it's been through some remodeling, but..." he laughs, looking around at the rustic, camping lodge style decor.

"I'm sure it looked so much better when you were younger, babe," you say.

"Oh, yeah. I had giant posters of all my favorite Swedish pop bands on the walls... yeah, it was really something."

"I can see why your dad remodelled," you whisper, giggling, and he flicks your arm under the sheets playfully. You take a deep breath of the pine again, relishing in the fact that you didn't need to be anywhere or do anything, then flip over to kiss Bill again. His large hands reach up to cup your face as you sling your right leg over him, plopping yourself down in his lap. Through his boxers, you can feel his hard on pressing into your ass, and your pussy clenches in anticipation as his hips give a little bump.

"Hey, guess what?" he murmurs, pulling you down so that you're flush against his chest as you grind down.

"What?" you breathe, gripping the headboards behind him. His thumbs hook into your sleeping panties.

"I love you," he smiles, and undresses you underneath the covers, cupping your breasts and sqeezing them until your nipples are hard peaks and your body is calling out for more. Once he's got you good and needy, he trails his fingers down to your heat, and rubs slow, lazy circles around your clit, causing you to buck your hips down.

"Hey hey, this is relaxing time," he chastises, "Time to take it sloooow."

"I hate you," you growl, white knuckling the headboards. He gives you a shit eating grin, then finally relents, allowing you to grind down into him.

"Are you still hard from sleeping?" you ask, and he nods, feeling his own arousal throb. "Okay... lemme just..." you gasp as you take him out of his boxers, and slip him inside you.

"Ohh fuck," he whines, and you slot yourself all the way down, rocking a few times to adjust to his size. Then, you begin to lift up and down as you grind back and forth, and he grabs your shoulder.

"Fuck, (y/n) I'm gonna... fuck, you're gonna make me-"

"Ah, Bill..."

"Yeah, just like that baby, that's good, ride my dick..."

"Oh godohgod-!"

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and in comes Bill's blonde, floppy haired brother- er, the youngest one.

"Upp och hoppa!!" (Rise and shine) Valter shouts, clapping his hands, "Oh, I see you've already risen, ahemmm!" He's being unnecessarily loud, since he's got those headphones he wears during his gaming streams on.

"VALTER!" Bill screams, and you have to slap your hand down on his chest to restrain him from flying out of bed and pummeling his little brother.

"WHAT HAPPENED, what am I missing?" Alexander darts into the room, holding in one hand a pan of frying potatoes and in the other a plate of crackers and Kalles smoked roe. Gustaf steals a cracker on his way by the door, and pops his head in.

"Good morning, you two."

"Take a picture, it'll last longer!" Bill shouts after him, and Valter draws the blinds.

"You shouldn't have sex with these open. You never know who could be lurking in these parts."

"That is good advice," Alexander points the pan at us.

"That smells good, come here and give me a potato," you say, and Alex does as you say as Bill rolls his eyes.

"You too?"

"The covers are doing their job, I mean..." you tease, and at Bill's incessant glaring, you laugh. "Alright, everybody out!"

"Even me, the cute one?" Valter pouts.

"Especially you," Bill snaps, and you toss a pillow at him. Once the door has closed again, he shakes his head at you, but is once again interrupted by shouts in the hallway.

"HURRY AND FINISH YOU TWO, OR ALEX'LL EAT ALL THE ROE!"

"Aw, leave them be," you finally hear Stellan groan, "You may be adults now, but I don't even want to know what you all are doing in your rooms."

"Nothing that steamy!" Gustaf says loud enough for us to hear.

"Looks like you're gonna be a grandad soon!" Valter told his father, practically shouting it through the door.

"Still glad we decided to visit my family for Christmas?" Bill smirks up at you.

"I don't regret it one bit," you smile, and lean down to kiss him.


	5. Gotcha (Bill Skarsgard x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Tom Hiddleston are on a press tour for your new movie, and fans ship you two. Bill Skarsgård, your boyfriend, gets jealous.

“Question from Ashley Jackson– hey Ashley,” Tom squints through his glasses as he reads the live Q&A screen you’re both looking at, “Are you and (y/n)… dating?” He seems surprised by the question, but you’re not- it’s a question you keep getting asked online, in interviews, and literally everywhere you go. "Ehehehe, oh dear, um…“ 

“Uh, no. No we’re not,” you jump in, looking at the camera and offering a smile, “As a lot of you may know, I’m in a happy, loving relationship with Bill Skarsgård, and he’s amazing. Tom’s great too, of course,” you nudge your co-star playfully, who laughs in response, “But I love him like a brother.” You deck him one in the head, then look at the camera apologetically. “I’m sorry, did I just ruin your otp?” you ask with a giggle, and Tom frowns. 

“O-t- what?” the British actor asks. 

“Nothing you need to know,” you smirk, and wink the camera’s way. You’re sure that gif will be all over tumblr tomorrow. 

You and Tom Hiddleston star in the upcoming action film “Hit List”, for which you had a lot of stunts. Your two characters never explicitly have any on screen romance or even display any attraction to each other, as your character is actually a lesbian in the film, but fans seem to have fallen in love with you and Tom together in interviews, even going so far as to call for your casting in the next Thor movie. You have to admit, that would be pretty cool…. but this whole #hiddles(y/l/n) thing was causing problems for you with your actual boyfriend. You and Bill had met on the set of Atomic Blonde. It was before you had gotten your big break, and you only played a background character in the club scene, but you two had off the wall sexual tension on set, and… well now, three years later, you two live together.   
  
You scroll down the questions on the provided computer, eager to move on from the subject.

_Nope, not that one. Not that one. Ooh, question about you dating ‘Pennywise’, but that’s pretty irrelevant…_

“Aha, question from Max Redding, hey Max… (y/n), would you like to see your character take a darker turn in the sequel?” You laugh. “Well, I don’t know if there’ll be a sequel yet, we’re crossing our fingers! Um, yeah, I’d definitely like playing it a little darker…” You answer the question, glad to have a distraction.   
  
After the session is over and you two sign off, your manager comes over.   
“(y/n), if you want, I can filter these. I can even give the people interviewing you a list of what’s off limits to ask about in the future,” he says, and you wave it off.   
  
“Nah, it’s fine. The more people ask, the more people I get to tell about Bill,” you smile.   
  
“Do people honestly think we’re dating, though?” Tom asks incredulously, grabbing your bag for you and handing it over. “I mean, like… I’ve heard of me and Chris, but… "hiddlesworth” is different, this is…“ He swallows, raising his eyebrows. "I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about any of this.” He suddenly looks horrified and embarrassed. “Good lord, you don’t, do you?"   
  
"Noooo, I don’t,” you assure him, “You’re an easy guy to be around. We’ve got great on screen chemistry, and we’re friends in real life. That just makes for a shipping situation."   
  
He still looks confused at the terminology, but nods slowly. "Alright. As long as you’re okay. I never want you to feel uneasy about anything, (y/n), and fans can get pretty pushy about stuff-”  
  
“Can it, Hiddleston. I know that we’re BFFs, not FWBs. No amount of fan service is gonna change that."   
  
He takes a moment to try and decipher the acronyms, then his eyes widen comically. "F-FWBs…” he murmurs. You laugh, punch his shoulder, and nod.   
  
“Gnight, nerd. See you tomorrow morning for the flight to, uh… where are we next?”  
  
“Press conference in Sydney."   
  
"Right. I’m gonna go make up for all the travel with Bill,” you grin, and wave. 

* * *

  
You toss the keys on the table when the day of press is over, heading up to your bedroom.   
  
“Fun day of press?” Bill asks, clearing his throat. He’s stretched out on the bed in his boxers, head against the headboard, looking fine as hell, you have to admit. You’d never get used to how long his legs are.   
  
“You know press is never fun,” you stick out your tongue, though not without a smile. You missed your boyfriend all day.   
  
“I don’t know. You seemed like you were having a good time.” You normally would have laughed, but you could hear the edge in Bill’s voice, so you poke your head around the corner, peeling off your blouse.   
  
“Are you talking about me and Tom?”   
  
“Yeah." He’s got a far off look in his eyes, and his white shirt is hugging his chest– fuck, what were you saying?   
  
"You  _saw_  the session, right? You saw what I said? I said I was in a  _looooving_  relationship with Bill Skarsgård. That’d be you, babe.” You come over to him, rubbing his shoulder sensually.   
  
“Uh huh,” he responds, crossing his arms and clenching his jaw. You scoff at this, getting back up and toss your shirt into the laundry before unhooking your bra.   
  
“Look, you can’t be mad. This just happens when two people share a screen. You were shipped with Landon, and you were fine with it."   
  
"Yeah, but wouldn’t you be the slightest bit affected if you were with me at the time, though? Like seeing drawings and shit of us, knowing I go to work every day to see him?” Now he’s glowering at you darkly, and you have to say, the expression would be tearing into your ovaries if it weren’t for him being such a massive dick right now.   
  
“No, because I trust you,” you shoot back, crossing your arms too, “I know you’re not gonna go fuck Landon in your trailer if you’re with me.” He averts your eyes, and you narrow yours. “Do you think I’m gonna go fuck Tom? Because if you do, you seriously need to reevaluate how well you understand my stance on commitment."   
  
"Commitment?” Bill huffs petulantly, “You make us sound like a deal you’re locked into."   
  
You stare at him for a minute, then shake your head, deciding against an outburst. "Now you’re just trying to find something to fight about. Shit happens on the internet, Bill- I’d have thought you knew that."   
  
He purses his lips, and runs his fingers over the covers idly. "I’m sure he’d jump at the chance to date you. Look at you,” he mutters, biting his lip. It’s then you realize you don’t currently have a bra on, and you’re baring your breasts to your boyfriend. You roll your eyes, and grab a shirt.   
  
“He’s never seen these, and he never will. Tom’s been nothing but a gentleman. Like I said in the interview, Bill- I care for him like a brother. You’re the man I love.”

“He’s hot, and he’s British–” Bill growls, and you fall onto the bed, stalking up to him on the pillows like a tiger.

“And you’re hot and Swedish,” you nuzzle into his neck, nipping at his earlobe, “Which do you think I prefer, huh?” He huffs, and you walk your fingers up his chest. “Well, I’m lying on top of a hot Swedish man at the moment… make an educated guess.”

He can’t hold back his grin any longer. He finally rolls his eyes, and grabs your ass, dragging you to sit in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb in circles over your hip, “I guess I’m just tense about you being gone for so long. It’s not a controlling thing, I just… worry.”

“I know,” you smile, “But I’ll be in touch with you every day. Work, right?”

“Yeah. Press is press,” he sighs in agreement, and you laugh, bouncing on his lap.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t make up for the next two weeks tonight, baby,” you giggle, and he moans slightly, grinding you down into his erection. You gasp.

“Like that?” he clenches his jaw again, determined to show you you’re his. 

“Oh, yesss, fuck me hard, oh  _Tom_!” you shout, and Bill glares up at you as you lose it, toppling down in uncontrollable laughter to rest your forehead against his. “Gotcha.”

“Fuck you.”

“Plan to.”

“C'mere,” he grumbles, and flips you both over, pinning your arms back roughly and practically tearing your panties off.


	6. Catcall (Roman Godfrey x Reader)

You take the shortcut across the courtyard and take out your ear buds, packing them away. It’s a nice day, as celebrated by your short skirt and open blouse, and your trip over here on the bus allows you just enough time to grab a coffee before your 1:30 class starts.

You bite your lip, and try to avoid eye contact as you approach the campus smoking area. There’s Roman, resident rich bitch, leaning up against a pillar and twirling an unlit cigarette between his spindly fingers that you completely did NOT want inside you. He shares an 8:30 AM with you on Thursdays– he was a self righteous dick, one that expected everything to be handed to him on a silver platter, and it didn’t help that you couldn’t stop picturing him every time you got yourself off. Regardless, your fantasies were going to stay just that– you were not about to become another one of these bitches pawing at Roman’s belt.

You stride by, head held high– until…

“Afternoon, beautiful. Gotta love those legs!”

You stop, dead still, and suck in a breath. Despite being stupidly good looking, Roman was also stupidly  _stupid_. This time, you had had enough.

“These legs?” You gesture down, whipping around, “You mean the things that all women have?”

Roman smirks at your engagement.

“Those would be the ones.”

“Right,” you mutter, sauntering up to him. “You know, I’m glad I don’t have your number. You seem the dick pic type.”

He dangles the cigarette from his obscenely plump lips, and takes out his lighter from a back pocket. “Oh no, sweetheart. I wouldn’t send you a picture of my dick– makes it less pleasantly surprising when you see it in person.”

“What makes you think it would be pleasant?” you snap, fists clenching.

“The testimony of every girl on campus,” Roman grins, flicking his lighter and taking the first drag on his cigarette, then considers this, “A few guys could speak to it too.” He winks.

You clench your jaw, growling at his smug demeanor.

“I am not going to sleep with you.”

“Who said anything about sleeping with anybody?” Roman cocked his head, “I was just paying you a compliment.”

“A compliment?” you deadpan, “Fuck you, Roman. You catcalled me.”

“And maybe tonight, I’ll booty call you,” he smiles.

“Maybe I’ll say no,” you scowl, temper flaring. Roman chuckles at your anger and takes another drag, letting the smoke curl in his mouth before exhaling.

“You’re too easy, (y/n).”

“No, Roman, your problem with me is I’m not easy  _enough_. You’re pissed that I’m not begging you to rip my clothes off and take me in the bathroom!”

“Do I look pissed to you?” he asks, casually kicking a leg up to lean against the pillar. You should really be getting to class, but you’re too invested in this now, so you step closer to him.

“I see right through your "I don’t give a shit” attitude,“ you tell him, poking his chest, "You’re just an insecure asshole with daddy issues who fucks his way through the school wide population to feel better about the fact that nobody actually wants to  _date_  you!”

He stares at you for a second, seemingly crestfallen, then digs around in his pocket. He checks the other one, then gives you a ten dollar bill.

“What’s this for?” you mutter.

“The therapy session,” he replies. You let out a frustrated noise, and take the bill between your fingers, ripping it in half. You stop, and so does Roman.  _Woah_ … did you just rip money in half?

You look down in horror, but Roman just stares at it pensively for a few seconds, taking a double drag then tapping ashes onto the ripped pieces.

“Okay,” he says, eyes dragging back up to you, “You’re way too angry with me for this to just be a thing about passionate feminism or whatever. Why the fuck do you care so much that I catcalled you?”

“I don’t know, why did you catcall me?!” you return, swallowing apprehensively. He shakes his head, flicking away his cigarette butt in spite of the disposal poles and advancing on you.

“I think it’s obvious I find you attractive. But you didn’t answer my question. Why do you care so much?”

“Roman, get lost,” you try to growl at him, but he corners you at the other side of the area against a wall.

“I bet you want me to fuck you.”

“Shut up…” you bite your lip, determined not to look into those hypnotic green eyes he’s currently staring you down with.  

“But not like all those other girls. I bet you slide those little panties down at night and think of my hands on your thighs, my fingers just barely touching you there… I bet it gets you so wet, screaming my name into your pillow.”

“Roman,” you whine, cursing yourself. “Stop.” He looks down at you for a second more, then takes a step back.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry?” you breathe incredulously, guard going back up as you hope you haven’t ruined the panties he was just talking about.

He sniffs, and rubs his nose. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Can’t say I was lying about your legs, but I’m sorry for catcalling you, and, uh…” He waves a hand. “Saying all that. I can’t presume to know what you want.”

“Are you…” you shake your head, “What are you doing?” This was so uncharacteristic.

“I was apologizing, genius! Fuck, I thought you were the smart one here.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking down.

You begin to laugh, and now, so does he. He laughs until his whole face is lit up, and it makes you want to forgive him.

Almost.

“Unwanted attention is harassment,” you tell him slowly, “I appreciate your apology.”

He nods. You stand there, staring at him, until he looks back up, quirking an eyebrow.

“So? That it?”

“What?”

“You just gonna go to class now?”

“What, did you apologize just so I would suck your cock?”

Roman lets out a punched out laugh, and puts a hand on his chest.

“You don’t give me enough credit.  _You_  were the one hanging around after I had clearly ended the conversation.” He takes out another cigarette, and you sigh.

“Do you have class?”

“Nope.”

“So what, are you just gonna stand around here and smoke until you do?”

“Yep.” He lights up and blows smoke from the side of his mouth. “Don’t you have class?”

You bite your lip. You do… you really do, and fuck Roman Godfrey, you shouldn’t be wasting your day on him… but…

“Not until 6.”

“Well,” he pushes himself off the wall, walking back over to you and presenting his arm. “Wanna go for ice cream?”

“Ice cream?”

“Ice cream.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. Maybe you should give him a chance… you weren’t excusing him for the apology, but maybe he would prove himself a gentleman in other ways as well if you gave him a chance. “Only if you buy,” you smirk slowly, crossing your arms. He smirks back, looking up at the sky and letting out a contented sigh.

“You know, I don’t think I can. You ripped up my only means of economic survival.”

“Oh boo hoo, poor little rich boy,” you roll your eyes, and take his arm. “Can’t afford anything to eat?”

He shrugs. “I think I’ll have something to eat tonight, if this date goes well.”

You gasp a little, and he looks at your neck intensely when you turn away, sucking on his bottom lip.

Oh yes… he would satiate more than one need tonight.


	7. Castle Rock (Bill x Reader)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just based on the very little we get to see of Bill’s character in the Castle Rock trailer. I’m sort of imagining a storyline here with the reader, but as I know nothing about the show like the rest of you, I wanted to keep it ambiguous and open to mystery. That’s why nothing here is really explained in any backstory haha. Also, as we don’t know the name of Bill’s character in Castle Rock yet, I’m just keeping his name in this. 
> 
> (TL/DR: I WROTE THIS BEFORE CASTLE ROCK CAME OUT)

This prison is maximum security, so you have to be careful. 

Breaking your beloved out of jail was the last thing you had on your to do list, but after everything that was starting to happen in this shifty little fuck-up of a town you used to know, the government wanted him out, and if they said the word, well… one little supreme court ruling didn’t matter, even over a citizen deemed a danger to society. 

Here you were. Back in Castle Rock. 

You never thought you’d see that unsettlingly cheerful welcome sign again, one unearthed plenty of terrible childhood memories… not after Bill got caught and you were lucky enough to escape. You hadn’t planned on coming back, because survival was survival, but again, there was something going on in this town, and obviously, Bill needed to be as far away from it as possible or things could get dangerous. 

Nightmares come flooding back to you as you think of the mascot on top of the building… the alligator you had seen crawling… blowing out a single birthday candle… that clown  _thing_ that visited at night… helping a friend of yours burn a VHS tape when you were both too young to remember it… 

You kick dirt over the flowers that surround the sign.  _For the best you get in and get out, really_. There was something very wrong here, and if you could pick Bill up without any hiccup to your plan, you two could finally fuck off to god-knows-where and never have to do another job like this again. 

Until such a fantastic time… bullet proof vest and security armor would get you through this unexplainable nightmare of a town. 

You flash the ID on your card, and they scan your retina. The contacts you had been given provided you with an alias and a persona in their system of a regular prison guard, which would slip you in easily undetected. Now you just had to figure out which cell Bill was stashed away in… 

Knowing him, he was probably the moodiest of the bunch. He probably stayed holed up his cell during rec time, or if he didn’t, he’d use his freak manipulation skills to tempt someone out of their privilege passes or cigarettes or something. Those skills got him into this mess, he may as well use them now to keep himself occupied. 

You stand your guard as a bunch of fellow security personnel lead on through the cell patrol pathways, and you check each peripherally. Even after years of hardened criminal activity, this prison still scared the shit out of you– and it should. Men have gone mad in here. 

Finally, you catch a glimpse at the very end. 

There he is, all in grey– grey sweatpants, grey shirt, grey shoes. His head is tucked between his elbows currently, but you can easily tell it’s him… nobody else here is as tall, lanky, and long-limbed as he is.   
You fight the emotional urge to knock on the bars and get a look into his eyes, and keep walking. You could save that for later, no matter how desperately you wanted to see him now. It  _would_  be a life sentence, if you weren’t here to save his ass. But, he can thank you later. First you’ve got to get him out and prevent a spray of bullets penetrating both yours and his skull on the way out. 

You wait. Eventually, night falls, and you and one other guard are on duty. You quickly volunteer for the top rows, so your patrol “partner” stays down below. You hear him slam his baton against a bar, and it rings out… you take the opportunity of the noise and slight altercation over bedtime down there to hurry to the end. 

“Aren’t you a pretty sight?” you hear, and you’re surprised to see that the comment had come from Bill. He lifts his head from his knees, rolling his eyes up– he’s changed. “You know I haven’t seen a girl in three years? Three fucking years. All because of one stupid mistake."   
You stay silent in curiosity, and he goes on. "You wanna unlock this cell and join me for one hell of a good night?” He flinches, obviously used to floggings for speaking like this. When they don’t come, he blinks at you. “Don’t bother hiding it, sweetie– the male security gear isn’t as good a disguise as you think." 

You finally reach up, taking the hat off to let your hair loose. "I don’t know. I’d say it’s pretty damn good, but that’s just me." 

Bill sits forward immediately, all life that was previous absent from his eyes returning in an instant. 

"So is this what you do, then? Flirt with security guards at night so you can jack off?” you ask.

“A guy n-needs material in here,” Bill says, stumbling over his words, “Anyone hot talking to me will do…” He shakes his head slowly, backing up a little as he stares at you.“(y/n),” he whispers, “How…?” Just from seeing your face, he starts reliving it all, getting flashes of everything, of the car, the candles, the alligator, the mascot, the bridge, the circus, the straight jacket… he leans back again, face falling. “I-It’s impossible. You have to leave before… no, you can’t break me out." 

You drum your nails impatiently. "Nothing’s impossible when-”

“This is fucking  _Shawshank_!" 

"Nothing is impossible when you’ve got government technology on you,” you finish smugly, taking out a key imprint. Bill’s lips part– it’s like he can taste the freedom. But he looks pained; again, there’s unrelenting resistance in his eyes. 

“No, you don’t understand–” he tries to say, grabbing your wrist is through the bars. You scowl at him. 

“Don’t understand what?” you mutter, trying to shake free so you can get the lock open. Bill looks at you solemnly, almost with pity. 

“You have no idea what’s happening here… do you?" 

Suddenly, there’s a huge explosion outside, and you jerk your hand free. 

"Come on, that’s the signal for the cameras to go out for ten minutes.”  
“(y/n)-” he tries to plead, but you don’t listen. You print the key, use it, and help Bill to his feet before the security guard from below plus the entire staff as well. 

You two rush out of the cell block, but two seconds after turning a corner along a row of solitary confinement, he slams you up against the wall, plump lips instantly attaching to your neck in a needy display of physical desperation. 

“What… what are you…  _doing_?!” you struggle, pushing him off, “We have to go! In case you haven’t noticed, we are escaping a maximum security prison!" 

"Just five minutes, it’s been so long and I need you so bad–” he begs, but you shove him again, walking ahead. 

“Are you scared we’re gonna get caught?” he asks, looking around, “I know this prison now like the back of my hand. There’s a way out at the end of the cell block, right there." 

You turn to him. Looking at your watch, you peer around, then brace your forearm against his chest, pushing him back into the wall. 

"Fuck me then, if you want me so bad.” You can’t stop yourself from sounding genuine when you say that… his green eyes are ridiculously attractive, and when he parts his lips you know you can’t walk away from him again before spreading your legs. 

He flips you around, taking your wrists, and places them on either side of your head, capturing your lips, sucking them, and moaning like he’s a starving man. In a second, he’s untying those grey sweatpants, and they’re down around his ankles as he presses you to the cold door of a solitary. 

“I hope there’s nobody in there,” you tease, letting him pull your pants down. 

“I don’t think they’d mind. It gets lonely in those,” Bill says quietly, and you hesitate, searching his eyes. 

“Have you been in solitary confinement?" 

He just looks back at you, and kisses you lips again, pressing you back against it. He wastes no time in dragging a couple fingers up your panties, gauging how ready you are, and the wetness that coats them gives him his answer. Lifting you up a little more, he guides himself to you, and lets out a long groan you sink down over him, your walls fully enveloping his length. 

"Still the best?” you smirk. 

“Never been better,” he whispers, and gives the first thrust, sending you grabbing his shoulders for purchase. He starts a rhythm to chase both your releases, as the tender love making can all come later once you’re home and safe and not, stupidly, still in Shawshank Penitentiary.   
“You never wrote back to any of my letters,” he says gently, each thrust making you both grunt softly, “For the longest time, I thought you were dead.” You suck on your bottom lip, letting your forearms fall limp over his back as he holds you up and keeps going. 

You remember getting all those letters from him. He wrote once a month for about a year, but you never wrote back… you couldn’t. In your mind, it was better if he thought you were dead, than hang onto the idea that he’d ever see you again. 

“I didn’t get them,” you lie, “They must have been forwarded to the wrong address… I’m moving around a lot." 

"I guess you would,” Bill muses, “After growing up in a town like this, you’d never wanna settle down." 

You shudder, trying hard to maintain your expression of stoicism and focus on Bill fucking you. 

"Growing up in this town, I never wanted to come back,” you admit, moaning and grinding down a little as Bill reaches down to rub your clit, “What I’ve seen here, I’ll never forget." 

He gives one more powerful thrust, and you bite your fist, breathing his name as you cum. He pounds into you a few quick times, and with an expression of much-needed relief, he climaxes as well, giving a punched out gasp. His eyes are closed, forehead pressed to yours, as if he wants to savour this very second of freedom for the rest of his life.

You both hang there for a second, holding onto each other. 

"It’s worse, you know,” he says, panting and looking straight at you, through you into the cell behind you. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but all of it is back. And I’m caught dead in the middle of it." You do your pants back up as he does his, hopping down.

"That’s why we have to get you out,” you urge, grabbing his arm. He grabs yours right back, and holds you there. 

“I’m sorry. We can’t leave, (y/n),” he says, almost apologetically. You frown, panic rising inside of you. 

“Bill, what are you-" 

Suddenly, you hear a shout. 

"Hey! What are you doing out of your cell?!”

 "I’m not a-“ you begin to say, then realize you’ve taken off most of your uniform. "Shit…" 

The guard quickly runs up, and after some struggling and a punch to his face from you, slaps a device on your neck that paralyzes you. You fall to the ground, looking up at Bill with wide, fearful eyes. He looks down at you, just as frightened.

"Good job,” the guard sneers down at you, looking to Bill, “We knew she’d come for you, the sentence dodging bitch. How’d you keep her here?" 

"I didn’t,” Bill says, voice barely above a whisper as a haunted look passes over him. “Castle Rock did.”

 


End file.
